My brain stuttered at the sight of his dark shirt soaked at the side, one hand pressed there, jaw clenched tight. His eyes found mine immediately, like they’d been searching for me the whole way here.
Still, he was here. Relief hit me like a truck.
“Alex,” I whispered, stepping toward him before I even realized I’d moved.
Jonathan shut the door behind him while Devin guided Alex to the couch. Alex lowered himself with a hiss, but his gaze stayed pinned on me.
“I’m fine,” he said to the room.
I dropped to my knees beside him. “Where else are you hurt?”
“Just here. Just a graze.” His voice was rough, low.
“Then let me see.” My hands hovered before daring to slip under his fingers, replacing the pressure he held on the wound as best I could. His skin was hot. Sticky.
The heat pulsed into my palms.
Alex stiffened but didn’t pull away. He watched me the whole time, like I was anchoring him somehow.
Or maybe he was amazed to see me again. Had he been so afraid he wouldn’t make it out alive?
Devin brought the first-aid kit. Jonathan hovered behind the couch, jaw set, eyes scanning Alex with an assessing, protective energy.
I peeled back the fabric of Alex’s shirt, which was ruined, soaked a dark red. He was right that the wound wasn’t deep, thank god,but it had bled alot. More than I expected from such a shallow wound.
“You should’ve gone to a doctor,” I murmured, wiping away the blood, even though I had no idea what I was talking about. Of course, the idea of doctors was unpleasant, too, but after the medical system had helped my mom keep trucking, had helped her keep some quality of life even as she lost the ability to walk. I trusted doctors more than my own amateur nursing abilities.
“Didn’t want a doctor.” His eyes flicked to mine. “Wanted to get here. To you.”
The words punched straight through my chest. Clumsily, I worked on patching him up. He didn’t flinch, not once, though I was sure it hurt.
But every time my hands touched his skin, he exhaled like something inside him was coming undone.
It was too intimate. Too raw. And I didn’t care that it was way, way too soon to feel any semblance of this for him. For all of them.
When I finally taped the bandage down, Alex caught my wrist lightly, his fingers curling around it.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
I swallowed. “Don’t scare me like that again.”
His eyes softened, almost imperceptible to someone who was less fixated on his every move, but it undid me completely.
God, that gorgeous blue like a winter lake at twilight. It was cool water and sparkling ice and everything lovely about the darkest months of the year.
Before I could say anything else, Devin cleared his throat. “We need to talk strategy.”
Right. The rest of the world still existed. I stood as Jonathan moved around the couch.
“They know too much now,” Jonathan said. “Whoever tipped the Antonovs off, they were aiming to hit us where it hurts.”
“That means Frankie,” Devin added, meeting my gaze. “You’re not safe here.”
My stomach dropped. “So what, I’m supposed to hide in this apartment or the penthouse forever?”
“No.” Jonathan exchanged a look with Alex, who was sitting upright now, quieter than usual. “We think you need to get out of town.”
“No.” The word shot out immediately. “I can’t just leave. I…I’ve been taking time off, but Idohave a job. A life. My mom?—”
